The Aftermath
by TheHildur92
Summary: Dean struggles to move on after Sam leaves him unexpectedly. Will one final meeting influence the younger brother and bring him back to the world of the Winchesters? Takes place in an undefined season but after the deaths of Jess and John. Wincest, so do not like, do not read. Sam/Dean.


There are some nights after Sam left that I can sleep without incident. I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow and sleep dreamlessly until dawn breaks and I awaken to another dreary day without his smile or constant renumeration of various creatures and beings we are hunting. I have even begun to miss the piles of books usually present on the floor, which I would often trip over int the night or stub my toe on them. As annoying as they were, I would give anything to repeat this experience, to hear his laughter one more time and see him sitting in the bed once more, a smile on his lips, his skin warm from our love-making and hair ruffled from me running my hands through them, the desire still burning in the corner of his eyes.

Other nights, I am not that lucky. I toss and turn for hours, despite having hunted all day and collapsing into bed tired beyond measure. He comes to me then, haunts me like the ghosts we pursued relentlessly. When he left for Stanford it was different, we were not lovers back then and somehow it was easier to abandon what might have been then what has come into being, I knew he was living the life he wanted, he had chosen Jess willingly and happily, and I was never going to stand in the way of that. When he returned, I was happy enough to simply have him back. The thought of confessing my feelings never occurred to me, after all it was fucked up beyond measure, even on the Winchester scale of weirdness. I thought he was doing okay, despite us losing both Jess and Dad, until I found him one day in our room, sitting on the edge of the bed with his face hidden in his hands. When I entered, he looked at me with eyes filled with loss and sorrow. He told me he wasn´t sure he could go on like this. He had no purpose, no joy anymore. Never a psychotherapist, I didn't listen with sympathy, Instead, I got mad. Without thinking about it, I told him he had no right to throw his life away, there were other people who cared for him besides Dad and Jess.

"I know you love me, Dean," rejoined Sam.

"No, you don´t know half of it, Sammy. I am _in love _with you."

For once, my stoic and articulate brother was lost for words. I ran out the door and spent the evening driving around, only returning after midnight when I deemed it likely that Sammy was asleep. When I entered, the lights were off and I could make out the shape of Sam lying in his bed, his breathing slow and deep. Thinking he was asleep, I shed my clothes and crawled gratefully into bed, tired after the occurrences of the day. I was about to fall asleep when I felt someone crawl into my bed and recognized the scent immediately as Sam. He straddled me and before I could stop him, his lips found mine in the dark. I had imagined kissing my own brother would feel weird, wrong. Instead, it was like coming home. His velvety lips moved against mine while his hands caressed my bare chest. The heaviness of his body felt familiar against my own and my body reacted by instinct when my hands found their way into his locks and pulled him closer, eager and greedy for more. Then, I suddenly came to my senses and pushed him away. "I can´t do this, Sam. I´m sorry."

Sam reached over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. I could see the desire burning in his eyes. I didn´t stop him when he reached out to cup my cheek with his hand. "I want this, Dean. I want you. I want us."

"You are sure?" My words stopped Sam as he was reaching out for another kiss.

"Yes," Sam replied, kissing me again so that I felt the heat emanating from his skin, how his body fit perfectly against my own. I gladly submitted to his ministrations and we became lovers from that night onwards.

It came on so gradually that it took me a while to notice but I noted that once our physical relationship became intimate, things shifted in many ways for Sam and myself. For a start, the endless pranking which had been one of the pillars of our childhood gradually disappeared. I became chick-flick nauseatingly sentimental, buying Sam a shirt if he need one without the itching powder and bought his favorite takeout without once considering spitting into the drink. Hunting also changed dramatically, seeing as now I was less prepared to take risks, knowing someone was at home waiting for me and Sam did his research even more diligently than before, staying up sometimes until dawn to gather all the facts before we headed out. He had no desire to endanger my life. We also slowly learnt that revealing our relationship sometimes helped in helping others. Straight people in particular seemed to be in agreement with our coupling, the men felt assured we would not hit on them since we were in a committed relationship and the women often thought of us as so cute that they trusted us from the beginning and felt no warning bells ringing towards these two handsome gay men. Me and Sam usually never bothered to correct the fact that we had dated women until the day we became a couple. We kept it PG around others but learned that if Sam put his hands over my shoulders or he gave me a quick peck on the cheek conveyed the message when needed. Since we usually used fake names or first names only, nobody we helped ever suspected that we were related as well as lovers.

For three years, our lives were as harmonious as they ever could have been with us being Winchesters. We travelled the different states, going where we were needed, and even snuck in a holiday in Florida once and another in California, where Sam had been heading when we first parted ways. That is not to say our pantry was never empty or that we would sometimes flirt with others to get a reaction from our lover. Some scenes of jealousy did take place but over all we were happier together than apart. That is until I found my Sammy awake in the middle of the night after working a particularly haunting case.


End file.
